Strangers in a Bar
Sammy
had been sitting in the bar for four hours drinking his usual gin and
tonic, one drink after another, and even he would admit he was soused if
he could put a sentence together. He didn’t have to talk, however,
since he was the only customer left and there was an hour to go before
closing. All he had to do was tap on the bar twice in front of his empty
glass and the bartender would give him another drink. The service was
wonderful.
Then
two men in trench coats and fedoras walked in and sat down a few stools
away from Sammy. They ordered a couple of beers. They seemed to be
concerned about something and Sammy always liked to listen in on other
people’s conversations.
“We
need more room,” the big man said. “We can hardly take any more people.
But they keep coming down and we can’t send them anywhere else. You
would think we were Las Vegas and the drinks were free."
“Where
will we get more room? We’re not talking real estate here,” the little
fellow said. “No one thinks this place exists anyway. They think we’re a
figment of someone’s imagination. New arrivals are always surprised.”
Then
the big man said, “Oh, some people know we exist but they think we only
get dictators and used car salesmen. The common belief is everyone else
goes upstairs right away, provided there is an upstairs. More and more
people think there may be nothing at the end.”
The
little guy thought about that for a moment and said, “Well, I heard two
women arguing the other day about where cats and dogs go. I know we
don’t have any cats and dogs. Where would we put them? Pretty soon we’ll
be getting Boomers. They’re a fussy bunch. We need more room now!”
Sammy
didn’t know what to make of all of this. He wished he wasn’t drunk so
he could join the conversation but all he could do was listen. The two
men finally left and Sammy told himself he’d come back tomorrow night
and ask the bartender who the hell those two guys were. Then he tapped
on the bar twice in front of his empty glass.
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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